Tears mixed with the blood of a righteous man
by NinjaninaIII
Summary: Cas feels insignificant. Neither fully Human nor Angel, he knows no one can understand him...


**A/N: For electrospectrum (on tumblr) 3 **

* * *

Castiel was crying.

Dean had no idea how the hell he could make him stop.

He also didn't know what was wrong.

In fact he was so startled that he had walked in on Cas crying that he was now just stood in the doorway, wondering whether there were any supernatural beings able to instantaneously drag one under a, preferably Angel-proofed, rock and whether said being would appear at this very moment.

After a suitably long wait for the creature to appear, Dean then made himself face plan B: 'Find out whether Cas knows you're here.' Unfortunately, plan B was rather more successful and Dean wasn't able to run. Like a man. Because running away from crying is manly. Definitely. Possibly. Maybe not.

"Hello, Dean."

"That is definitely who I am. At this moment, I am indeed Dean. Unless of course, that is the wrong answer, in which case, who the hell is Dean?" He trailed of and made various facial expressions, most of which verged on uncomfortable. "… 'sup Cas."

Cas turned away from the door but didn't wipe away the tears as one would expect from someone who'd been caught crying in an almost pitch-black room.

"You've uhm. You've got something in your eye."

"?"

"..." Dean tapped his own cheek in the spot where one tear rolled down the Angel's.

"It's Jimmy," Cas said, implying that the issue was with Jimmy, not that he himself was the man.

Dean's raised eyebrows showed his confusion. "He's still in there?"

"Yes, but... His soul seems to be passing through to Heaven."

"Does that mean you-"

"A vessel is still available to be used once the soul originally inhabiting it has passed on," Cas replied, almost mechanical, as if he were reading from a sheet of instructions.

"Oh. Good." His lip pulled into a quick smile before vanishing again."But it still makes you sad?"

"As an Angel I would not have cared."

"But?"

"...although I did not know it, the first time I saw my Father's world through the eyes of a human, the first time I saw his creatures, his 'hairless apes' I was doomed to fall and doomed to no longer be magnificent and doomed to care for you and your kind and for Jimmy. Now I am not Angel nor am I human and yet I still... feel. As both."

"And in English that means..."

"I disgust myself, Dean, and I cannot even show you who I truly am... my form if I was not moulded to fit... _into _Jimmy... for if I did, you would bear unimaginable pain, perhaps even lose your life. ...Again. And you would fear me. And then I would be truly lost."

Dean crossed his arms. Uncrossed them. Dug his hands in his pockets. He knew what he had to say, but he wasn't Sammy. He didn't and never had studied stupid, clever words. He was at his eloquent best when he was thoroughly intoxicated and he hadn't had but a couple of bottles of beers in the last hour. This pause was just long enough for even Cas to call 'awkward' and Dean recognised the look that meant the Angel was about to fly. "But the thing is!" he began, stopping Cas at the moment of flight. "You're so human without even knowing it."

Cas halted, tilted his head slightly. Not in his full-on confused-kitten manner, but genuinely uncertain of what was to come.

Dean cleared his throat. "You're uh... the ...uh... wonderful... contradiction? Contradiction of all the power and might of Heaven mixed with the stupid emotions and doubts and flaws you've found in yourself on Earth and you have no damn clue. No. Damned. Clue. And you're scared and vulnerable and weak despite your awesome, and I mean that in the holier than god meaning, powers."

Dean took a breath and tried desperately to shut his mouth to prevent spewing anything else that could be deemed caring. Unfortunately he didn't have the control of his mouth he thought he did. "But. The thing is. I know that above all that crap, you're scared of letting me... Sammy, Jimmy... all of us stupid monkeys down. That's your number one concern. And you think that if you're not useful, I won't care. But I do care, even though... even if you don't realise, and it's fucking heartbreaking."

"..."

"Also, I imagine your wings to be like a tail."

"...Yes. No. Pardon?"

Dean, glad that his emotional crap stuff was over and done with, couldn't help but stare at the spot just behind and besides Cas, where he imagined the Angel's wings would be. "When you're happy, they're all upright and shiny, but when you're angry, it's like they're pointy. And when you're sad they're hunched and depressed. It's rather adorable. In my mind."

"That's all 'well and good', but that _solves _nothing, Dean." Cas was almost snarling, his voice twisted into a snide strike. "You humans use your words, your weasel words and you say what you don't mean, you try to whisper your way into power, you praise and shout and scream your words but you never say what is inside your heart. You worship the Lord then you burn your brethren with the same filthy mouths."

"Castiel, taking 'you kiss your mother with that mouth' to a whole new level since the beginning of the universe."

Cas, ever stoic, barely, but still noticeably, shook his head, almost disappointed by the reaction. "Again with the meaningless words."

"Everything is just 'words', Cas! You think three words could sum up feelings? You think if you speak from the heart you could fit every thought into a sentence? Humans are evolved so that the even the word 'okay' can be acceptable in any situation. Want to stop the apocalypse? 'Okay'. Want to go kill some demon scum? 'Okay.' Want to enter a loving and caring relationship with me?" Dean shook his head, his turn to be disappointed. "You've been watching us for literally ever, Cas. Did you not notice how the only freaking ones who can afford to wax lyrical, to get creative when talking about feelings: the poets, the writers are the loneliest? The ones who put effort into words are the ones who're losing out in society. Take Chuck, for instance. Loneliest sod in the world and he uses words. I agree with you. Words are stupid. But we don't have Angel screech, so we make do with pointless human words for pointless human feelings."

"Even your wordsmiths lie, Dean. They exaggerate and cover up with your 'metaphors' and your 'imagery'."

"Okay, well, how about this then. Just give me a second." Dean turned and went out of the room. From where he was sitting, Cas could hear the sound of a piece of paper being ripped off of a hotel notepad, the scribbling of a pen, then some scissors cutting something, assumedly the paper, in small but rushed snips. As Dean returned to the room, which he realised was the bathroom, he flicked on the light and handed the small, now kind-of-heart-shaped paper to the Angel.

'_Roses are occasionally red,  
Violets are actually kinda purple,  
This is fucking a poem,  
so fuck you I want to see your wings.'_

Pleased, Dean ginned. "How's that for truthful poetry."

"...It's..."

"Beautiful right? You can tell I should've pursued a career in writing shitty valentine's cards."

"...no, Dean, it's horrendous. Your rhyme scheme is truly terrible."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas. It's not meant to rhyme. It's a joke."

"Again with the confusing words. I don't know what it means."

Dean sighed. "It means, you unromantic pleb, that I don't care if my eyes get burnt out of my skull, or if I die. Again."

"...that's not written anywhere on this piece of paper-"

"CAS! Listen to me you infuriating little butterfly." Dean had managed to confuse himself with the butterfly comment. Which was great. "...What's written on that brilliantly cut out heart is that I want to see your wings. That should be plain enough right? It's not a freaking metaphor or exaggeration, I. Want. To. See. Your. Wings. Fullstop."

"I could never-"

"You can... ever. Now. Uh. You're going to show me your wings. I've made peace with my gods."

Cas, slightly distressed at the fact that Dean was possibly implying that he had enslaved more gods to do his will, shook his head, slowly but willfully. "No, Dean, I could never inflict that upon you, upon anyone... human, on purpose."

"Well I'm obviously not just anyone, I'm Dean freaking Winchester and you'll do what I say. Failing that, I could always find some Holy Oil to molotov cocktail your arse like you did to your brother..."

"Dean, please, why are you asking this of me?"

"Because if anyone's going to see what a freaking Angel looks like, it's going to be me. Also, I think you're an idiot who'll only realise things were going great when the end of the world is happening. Literally. So. Speaking from the heart. No lies for the next six words. Ready? I want to see your wings."

* * *

"Dean? DEAN?!" Sam burst into the motel room as the screams of pain, most definitely emitted from his brother, had finally died down. He was scared. Dean hadn't ever screamed that much, at least in his presence, for... well... ever. Gun locked and loaded, his eyes darted around, scanning every centimetre of the place. Seeing no-one in the main room, he almost gave up hope, thinking that whatever had tortured Dean had carried him off to Hell/Heaven/Purgatory/insert other realm previously undiscovered. Then he saw the blood drops on the carpet just outside the bathroom. Kicking the door in, the carnage inside overwhelmed him.

_Dean is on the floor. _

_There is blood around his head. _

_He's dead. _

_You're alone, Sam. _

"Cas?" He recognised the creature in the trenchcoat, complete with dripping blood. "CAS?! What's happening?!"

Cas just stood above the lifeless, unmoving... body... looking shell-shocked and silent. Unmoving. Unblinking. Head down. Sam's voice seemed to bring him to his senses. He looked to the doorway before turning back with sudden intensity in his eyes. After seemingly not finding what he was looking for at eye-level, his eyes fell back to the floor as if he'd just come out of a trance. Now Cas seemed to be inhaling and exhaling all of the air in the room. He seemed panicked. He collapsed to the floor, lifting Dean's head so that it was cradled in his lap. He was rocking back and forth, gently. He was worried. Scared.

"Cas, is Dean..." Sam hadn't stepped into the room. He stood in the door, trying not to look at the pool of blood, the splatters up the wall, the scorch marks burned into the sink, bathtub, wall tiles... "Did you kill him?" His gun was still in his hand, still pointed forwards.

"No, no, no, no, no, Dean, no, your eyes, no, no..." Cas was still rocking, repeating the jumble of words in a low murmur.

"Eyes?" Sam gathered the confidence to look at Dean's face. There was no way of sugar-coating it. His eyeballs had exploded. The blood pouring from them was dark, almost black. "Dean. Dean. Oh god, Cas, what the hell did you do?!"

"He said he wanted to see me, see my wings. Lord save him, Father, help him, Lord have mercy upon him, spare him pain, Oh God."

"You showed him your true form!? After what you did to Pamela?!" Sam strode into the room, pushed Cas away, held Dean in his arms. "AFTER EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE, CAS."

"I'm so sorry, so, so, sorry," Cas was backing away now, pushing himself along the floor as far away from the brothers as he could. "I told him I would hurt him, I always hurt him, I always-" He stopped speaking instantly as he saw Dean's mouth move.

"What's... a guy... gotta do..." Dean's voice was weak, small, almost inaudible, but archetypically cheery. "...to get... some... light... around here..." He loosed a weary laugh, holding one shaky hand in front of where he thought his face should be, before it dropped to rest on his forehead. "...oh... I see..." He snorted lightly. "Cas? Are you..."

"It's me, Dean, I'm here, it's Sammy, I've got you. I'm here for you."

"Oh... hey... Sammy..." Dean smiled lazily before suddenly laughing at something. "So a blind man… was ending his relationship with his girlfriend… Y'know what he said? He said… 'I'm sorry, I can't see you anymore'. Get it? …Man, I've always wanted an excuse to tell that one..."

"Blind jokes?"

"Too …soon?"

"Yes, Dean, you have blood pouring from your empty eye sockets, I think that counts as too soon!"

"Spoil sport," Dean huffed. "Where's... did you see Cas? Is he here?"

"Not for much longer," Sam growled. "Get out."

"No! Don't... go...!"

"I'm here, Dean, I just.."

"Come... closer you idiot."

Cas hesitated a for a second before complying.

"Cas, you said... you told me you would take care of me... were something... to happen..."

"Yes, anything, Dean."

"...Take ...responsibility ...then."

"I fully intend to, Dean, whatever you wish for, I am here serve your every need."

"First, do me a massive favour... and get me off this floor... It's freaking cold and it smells of pee."

Cas bit the inside of his lip, wondering how he would do that without literally pulling Dean from Sam's arms, but was relieved when Sam simply sighed and stood up, shaking his head. "Be careful," he mouthed, frowning agitatedly at the Angel.

Cas nodded, stood up then stooped down to lift Dean up, princess style. "What now," he said when he was sure he was holding the man tightly.

"Hospital... would be great..." Dean laughed shakily again before passing out.

* * *

"Cas, your wings are all droopy. It's really rather saddening." Sam, who'd been nodding off, and Cas, who'd been pacing constantly since Dean'd been seen to, suddenly perked up, aware and on the ball.

"You can see my wings?"

"You can see?!" Sam said almost simultaneously.

"Not really." Dean touched the bandages across his eyes tentatively, nodding, slightly pleased at his mental image of himself. He probably looked like a BAMF. That or a mummy.

"A guy without eyes can see an Angel's wings but 'not really'. Care to elaborate oh sagely brother?"

"..It's like I can ... what's the fancy word... 'perceive.' It's like I can perceive them."

"'Perceive'. Right. Well you seem completely FINE with the fact that Cas just EXPLODED your GODDAMN EYES, Dean!"

"Well I told him to let me see them, so it is kind of my fault," Dean said, shrugging slightly.

Exasperated, Sam stood up from his bed-side seat and walked away. "Whatever. I'm going to get some coffee. Don't jump off of a bridge whilst I'm gone, Cas."

"You know… I got a proper look at them before the whole explodey eyes thing."

"Pardon?" Cas had started pacing again when Sam had left, but now he stopped.

"The last thing ever saw was a Lamb-Zebra-Cat-Monkey. If I told Sammy... if I told anyone, they'd think it would sound grotesque, but... I dunno... you looked so..." If he still had eyes, Dean would've closed them to try to relive the moment. "So magnificent. Everyone should see an Angel, it's definitely worth the eyes."

Dean smiled at the silence, imagining Cas' face at that moment. He'd be dumbfounded, the adorable little shit. "It's funny how something so beautiful can be so blinding."

"I guess it's like your soul, Dean. It shines so brightly that it almost blinds me every time I look at you."

"Well that sounds... fun. What are you, a masochist?"

"Dean..."

"Don't make that face, Cas," Dean smiled. "Ah- ah-ah, don't try to deny it, you're making that I'm-seriously-worried-about-you face and it's making me feel patronised. Just because I don't have eyes, don't mean I can't tell exactly what you're doing."

"..." There were shuffling noises and then the roughness of stubble against Dean's cheek.

"Uhm. Cas? This is new. I don't know what you're doing. I can't see what you're doing."

"I was told that cheek kissing is a ritual or social gesture to indicate friendship, perform a greeting, to confer congratulations, to comfort someone, to show respect, or to indicate sexual or romantic interest and so I acted thus," Cas said without backing away.

"You're kissing my cheek?" Dean tried to hide his distress at what Cas could be trying to say by laughing. "What are you, French? And... this kiss has gone on for long enough, you can back off now loverboy."

"Sorry... I just wanted to do something right, something human today."

"I think everyone wants to do something right every day. That's what _makes_ us human."

"You're not making any sense."

"Well neither does two of your heads fighting one another. Seriously, how do you stand the constant bickering between the cat and the monkey head? They looked annoying as hell."

"...You fear me."

"No."

"You were scared."

"It was terrifying," Dean admitted. "But I don't fear you."

"Do your eyes hurt?"

"They just got blown out of my face, and they feel like it, yes."

"I cannot fix them."

"I didn't think you could. Figured I'd have had them back by now if you could."

"I'm sorry, I tried, it's just..."

"Well if Pamela could deal with it and Bobby could live in a wheelchair, I can deal with it too- OH. I know what I need!"

"What?"

"Those fake eyes Pamela had! But black ones, make it look like I'm possessed and creep the hell out of Sammy. It'll be brilliant."

"What's 'brilliant' about playing being a Demon?"

There was the sound of a paper cup of coffee being placed on the bedside stand. "Yes, dear brother, what _is _brilliant about tricking dear little Sam into thinking you've been possessed?"

"Oh hey, Sam, you took a while to get your coffee..."

Dean assumed Sam was shaking his head, either exasperated with him or in his 'you wouldn't believe it if I told you, but here goes', way. "I met this Hunter in the lift. He seemed adamant that I should chuck this small Asian woman into his arms as the elevator doors were closing. Something about a Mayan God?"

"Sounds like fun. I'd like to have seen that." He sighed. He knew Cas had grimaced. "Are you seriously going to do that every time I use that phrase?"

"How could you tell-"

"Because I'm me, you ass. You own what, like, half of my heart? I'm pretty sure that's important enough for me to know what face you're making and Sammy if you don't stop making that retching action I will knee you in the face."

* * *

"Okay guys, please, I'm right here." Sam rolled his eyes as Cas carried on.

Dean swallowed his mouthful and licked his lips. "Come on Sammy, don't try to tell me you've never dreamt of being looked after by your own personal Angel."

"No, well, yes, but.. not like..." Sam's face was a picture of disgust as he pocketed his gun and slung his coat over his shoulder. "I'd rather you trained so that you could get back on the job faster."

"Oi, this is rehabilitation," Dean said through another mouthful.

"Making Cas feed you pie whilst you lie in bed hardly counts as rehabilitation, Dean!"

"You make it sound as if Cas doesn't want to do it. He does, right, Cas?"

"Definitely. I take it upon myself to protect you in your weakest times. Don't worry Sam, I shall protect Dean whilst you are out hunting."

"Whatever. Cas, I need a word with Dean. Alone. Why don't you go and milk a cow or something." Cas nodded reluctantly and left, the empty plate that used to hold the pie disappearing with him. "Dean, are you blind?!"

Dean waved a hand in front of his face and acted surprised that he couldn't see it. "Holy shit, I am!"

"...okay, poor choice of wording. Dean, don't you see," Sam grunted again, choosing his words in his mind before he spoke again. "… can't you understand that you can't let Cas coddle you like this? You need to tell him that he doesn't owe his life to you. You can't be together like this for ever, I need you! I need you to hunt with me, with eyes or not, and you can't do that if you've got an Angel who thinks you're relying on him stuck to your face twenty four seven."

"I know, Sam, and he knows too. I've just got to milk the moment. Let me have a week to heal my goddamn exploded eyeballs and have someone take care of me, then I'll use my superpowered sense of hearing or smell or whatever to save your ungrateful ass on every Hunt we go on, okay?"

"…fine. Just… just be aware that you and he probably aren't on the same page with this relationship of yours."

"…oh I'm pretty sure we're on the same page." Dean grinned. "Definitely sure. This true form showing of his is strangely the most intimate thing I've ever experiencened, it was like—"

"TMI, Dean! Do not want to hear!"

"Your loss," Dean shrugged.

There was the flutter of wings and a pail of milk was pushed into Sam's arms, sloshing on his shirt. Cas barely looked at him as he returned to his position besides Dean. "I'm back. I bought pie from a cottage in England."

Dean grinned. "Awesome."


End file.
